~ America 250 ~
By Chris Deraleau
~ Part Two ~ The Setting of an Internal Flame ~
The smell was of an old collection of items. not just old because it had not been bothered for quite some time, but old because it was all from a different time in life, a much different time. a place it took me to, where i assure you i had never been. inside, the room was a deep yellow, like light through fresh honey. the texas sun cast light through these fabrics that had hung over these windows since the 60's. i distinctly remember neat stacks of news papers, 'the dallas morning news' a collection that's genisis was unknown, though the dates i saw were anywhere from the 60's on to the 90's. it was a cluttered room, though there were rough organizations everywhere from the past. clothes racks taller then myself, adorned with hats, dresses, scarfs, uniforms i knew to be military dress. there were posters, i saw faces that i had never seen... i saw a man there with a gentle smile, thick hair and deep eyes. intelligent eyes, eyes i could trust.... and i trusted that face. the poster said, 'Vote for Kennedy'.... i saw flair-pins that read, 'JFK' with the same mans face. there were boots and high-heeled shoes under plastic covers, i looked in boxes and saw belts, gloves and old cans of pomade and chewing tabacco. i sometime not too long into my adventure realized, i wasnt distracted by the fear i had once had of this room. i looked in this mirror and saw my reflection, and there were no red eyes behind me, there were no scaly tails slithering through this room, or no razor sharp teeth glistening in the sunlight from outside.. i realized that there were no monsters in this room... and at the same time, that there never were any monsters there either.. i opened the closet door and there were boxes, shoe boxes. alot of shoe boxes, from the floor up... i grabbed one off of a smaller stack... there were rifles in the corner, that did make me nervous, so i didn't get close to them. i sat there on the floor and opened the box that i had just grabbed, it was resting on my lap. with my back against the wall, i began to go through the box.. there were old tickets, locks of hair and feathers. old tabacco pipes but, more so, pictures.. hese photographs had no colour. they were shades of grey, mixed with light areas and dark areas. they were of people, people i thought that i knew. i saw a man and a woman, next to one another leaning on an old chevrolet parked in a field.... 'thats mamaw and papaw' i told myself... i continued to look through the photographs and saw so much. i began to wonder what it was like back then, my heart felt something deep something profound. with each picture i gazed upon, i became more enthralled. i studied the details. i breathed them in if you will. they did have a smell, though i mean i took them in... ill never forget that moment in my life... i got to a picture of a pretty lady, laying on her side on a blanket, basking in the sunlight. she had a polka-dot dress on, and a big pretty hat with a ribbon around it and she had a cigarette in her hand, she looked like a movie-star. so graceful, so outstanding this picture was to me... "i remember when that was taken.... "i heard the gentle comforting breeze of my grandmothers voice right beside me. i hadnt even heard her walk into the room. my heart froze like snow, i was looking up at her, and i did so, so fast that she almost laughed. there was a smile on her face and the look of fear on mine. ''its ok baby, im not upset'' she bent down and sat right there beside me. "scoot over just a tad honey, these old knees just aren't what they used to be" 'mamaw... was this you mamaw... "she chuckled, and her head tilted slightly as she held the picture in her old weathered hands.. she opened her mouth to speak and then closed it. took a deep breath and smiled. . but i ad seen that face before.. she looked like she was thinking about something, something she couldn't understand, or couldn't explain rather. she looked like she could have cried and smiled at the same time.... only today, i know as an olddr man, what that look means... its the look of nostagia. of feeling that time, that moment that you can never have again. "yes honey, that was your mamaw, i was much prettier then wouldn't you say..."